Adrian's Addiction
by Fury-of-Tuxedo
Summary: My first story on FanFiction.Net, this is about Adrian and his escapes from his otherwise-deprived life via Diablo II. Read and review! (Chapter 3 Newly Added!)
1. Default Chapter

OK, reviews and suggestions are always welcome! I'm just starting this story, so if you want to be mentioned or put into it, feel free to ask! I do not own Battle.net, Diablo II, or anything of the sort. That's all Blizzard's. I own Adrian, that's good enough for me.   
  
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The wind chilled him to his very core, whistling through his silver-white hair. He smiled slightly as he thought of her. He could still see her in his mind: The soft curls of her hair, the curves of her body, of her slender form crushed against his own, of...  
  
"Adrian!" The voice shot through his thoughts, and as they crumbled a bout him like so many specks of dust, a ball hit him in the back of the head. "Damnit, Shamus!" he yelled, rubbing where the dodgeball connected with his skull. "What?" Shamus called back. "It's gym class, man, you're supposed to catch it with your hands, not your head!"  
  
Yeah, no duh, thought Adrian. But gym class was the least of his worries. He had other issues that demanded his attention, trails to be walked, monsters to be killed. He was lost in the infinite of his imagination again. His body might be in the middle of gym class, but his mind was wandering the world of Sanctuary with his necromancer. Adrian was a Diablo II addict, pure and simple. And he had caves to purge of darkness, Prime Evils to kill, rogues to – A sudden pain filled his lungs, making him feel as though he had just run a marathon.  
  
"SHAMUS!" "Sorry man, get with the game a little!" Adrian rubbed his chest where the ball just hit, wheezing softly. The new adventures of he and his necromancer would have to wait until he got home, he supposed.  
  
The bell couldn't have rung any sooner. Before it finished, Adrian had his bag over his shoulder and was out the door. He stuck to the back alleys on the way home, in a desperate attempt to avoid getting the living hell beaten out of him...again. Adrian wasn't exactly the macho type, and as a result of this he often found himself hurled into worlds of pain between his house and school. Diablo II was more than a game to him, it was an escape from reality. He may be a nothing in actuality, but in the game, he was powerful. He could destroy entire hordes of devilkin with a single bone spear, and his skeletal minions over-ran whatever dungeon they entered. And soon, his hunger for a life which is not his would be sated. He had reached his front door without having the crap beaten out of him for the first time this week, and in about five minutes, he and Shamus would be on Battle.net again, with all the power they could ever imagine.  
  
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A short first chapter, but I promise to write more and longer if you review! Err....review encouragingly, anyway! Thanks for reading! 


	2. Chapter 2: Of Shattered Dreams and Broke...

DING DING DING! Negrath is the first reviewer! He gets the prize! Err....note to self - come up with a prize... Anyway, a review means, you guessed it - A NEW CHAPTER! Here we go! Oh, and I don't own Diablo II, Blizzard does. If only I had THEIR income...   
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Account Name - DreamWeaver87   
Account Password - catharcana  
  
Adrian moved over to his necromancer, a level 13 named Freylorn. He laughed a little at how powerful his character looked in that bone helm and impenetrable chain mail. That laugh soon turned to a muffled sob, as he realized what a mockery it was of his actual life. "No," he told himself. "You're not doing this to yourself again. It's just a game."  
  
-Enter Chat-  
  
/f list  
  
Ringwraith69 is currently using Diablo II Lord of Destruction in game Fport.  
  
Ahh good, Shamus was already on. Adrian smiled to himself as he typed in the game name. A level 13 necro might not be all that great, but hey, it was a start, right? He entered the game name and password.  
  
Morkoth: heya adrian!   
Freylorn: heya sham, hows it goin?   
Morkoth: meh, not too bad...you?   
Freylorn: not too bad myself!  
  
Ahh, what a lie that was. If Shamus only knew...But then, that was the other nice thing about Diablo II - anonymity. He was no longer Adrian, he was Freylorn. He could command undead armies, summon spirits of bone to rend the flesh of his enemies, all while Shamus boosted him up with war cries from his Barbarian. He could hardly wait for their adventures to begin.  
  
LOST CONNECTION TO BATTLE.NET  
  
"WHAT!?" Adrian stood up quickly and started kicking at his computer. "Please, PLEASE don't do this to me...it's been a long day, I need a vacation for a few hours, come on, please..." But of course, no amount of begging would fix his internet. "That's what I get for going AOL," he sighed, slumping back in his chair. He let his head pound against the head rest for a few minutes, then resigned himself to walk downstairs.  
  
"DAD! THE INTERNET IS DOWN AGAIN!" he yelled. There was no response. "Dad?" he called again, a little more quietly. Still no answer. Adrian slumped his way to the fridge, and saw a note taped to it. "Adrian. Gone to dinner. Figured you'd rather play your game, so we won't disturb you. If you're hungry, your dinner recipe will be on Channel 12 at 7:00. Love, Mom and Dad." Dinner recipe on Channel 12 at 7:00? He sighed under his breath. When would they learn he had no clue how to cook? He walked to the phone in the corner of the room and picked it up, quickly punching in those seven digits that he knew so well.  
  
"Marsters residence, may I ask who's calling?" A soft female voice greeted him. "Yeah, it's Adrian...can I talk to Shamus, please?" "Oh, hiya Adrian!" Shamus' older sister Jen answered in that silky-smooth voice that always made the room feel twenty degrees warmer. "How are you?" He put his hand over the phone for a moment and gulped. "Oh, I'm fine!" he answered her, a slight quiver in his voice. "I'm sorry, Adrian, but Shamus just left! CCD class, you know." Adrian kicked the kitchen drawer hard. "What was that?" Jen's voice leapt from phone speaker right into his anger. "Everything OK?" "Oh, y-yeah, fine! I just, uh...dropped my weight!" "Your weight? You lift weights? How much can you bench?" Adrian cursed softly under his breath. How was he supposed to know? It was supposed to be a bluff, not an invitation to further humiliation... "Um, 40 pounds?" he answered weakly. There was no doubt about it - a muffled giggle could be heard from the other end of the line. "Oh, I see...well, Shamus isn't here, so I guess goodbye!" He stood with the phone in his hand about a minute after she hung up, thinking about that last word. Goodbye? What was so good about it? Bye, of course, but good? Was it that great to not have to hear him any more? He needed to vent. Bounding back up the stairs, he dove back into his computer chair, figuring Diablo II might be working by now.  
  
QUERYING GATEWAY...   
...   
...   
...  
UNABLE TO CONNECT TO BATTLE.NET  
  
"DAMN!" he yelled, kicking the computer out of frustration. A loud cracking sound immediately told him what a stupid move that was. Hoping against hope, he looked down. The faceplate of the computer had been kicked clean off, his socks were torn, and there was blood beginning to spread throughout the fabric. One of the circuits had made a deep gouge in the arch of his foot. "WHY CAN'T ANYTHING GO MY WAY FOR ONCE??" he was screaming as he ran into the bathroom, soaking his bloody mess of a foot into the tub. "WHY? WHY? WHY THE - OUCH!!!" That water stung a lot more than he had been expecting. Great. This would give him just enough time to contemplate how much trouble he was going to be in once his parents got home. He had broken the new computer that his dad had been saving up for for a good six months now. There would be more blood shed than just his foot tonight, he thought grimly...   
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Wow, was that plot development or are you just happy to see me? As usual, R&R, ask if you want to be put in (This means you, Negrath!) I'll work on a new chapter as soon as I get a chance, but this seems like it'll be a fairly quick ongoing story. I'll try my best, if it's requested! 


	3. A belt lash for your thoughts?

A special thanks to Negrath and Ramaon for reviews! Thanks to you, here's chapter 3! And no, I don't own Diablo II, Blizzard does. And no, I don't own Blizzard either.  
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The bathwater resembled red wine at this point. Adrian looked at it in dismay, massaging his foot a little, gasping at the pain. He hobbled over to the cabinet to grab a bandage, quickly wrapping it around his foot and stuffing the bloody mess into his shoe, hoping it wouldn't be noticed. Pounding his head against the wall gently, he started thinking about what he could be doing right now on Battle.net. He could be level 20 by now at the very LEAST, destroying things left and right with his bone spears, letting his minions crush Duriel, slashing his way through the council at Travincal...  
  
Headlights in the driveway broke through his reverie. That could mean only two things – either SWAT members were about to break in through his windows and flash bang the house, or his parents were home. He prayed for it to be the SWAT team, but he wasn't that lucky. He heard the door creak open downstairs. "Adrian! We're home!" "Really? Because I never would have guessed," he muttered under his breath as he limped into his bedroom, trying to make himself disappear, wishing he was like a Sorceress and could just teleport away. Again, no good. His door flew open and there was his father, red-faced, with a leather belt in his hand.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY COMPUTER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT THING COST??" Adrian tried to scramble past his dad, to get out, to avoid him at any cost. Unfortunately, with his foot the way it was, his father easily grabbed him, ripping his shirt clear off his body in the process. "YOU – LITTLE – WORTHLESS – GOOD FOR NOTHING – WASTE – OF – TIME!" he bellowed, punctuating each word with a lash on Adrian's back from the belt. At first he tried to struggle, but he soon gave up, seeing how futile it was. Tears welled in his eyes, but he held them back. After all, he'd been through worse. This was nothing compared to having your account hacked...  
  
The next morning, Adrian was up at 5:00am and out the door by 5:30, making every effort to avoid his father. Despite his early start, with his limp it was a slow, painful walk, and he arrived to school just in time to dodge being late. He flopped himself down in his homeroom desk. He was fast asleep before his head hit the hard, unpolished wood.  
  
There he stood. The downfall of Tristram brought tears to his eyes, but he could feel the righteous vengeance coursing through his veins. He and his small skeletal army charged into the town square, laying waste to any Fallen in sight. A quick bone spear sliced the rope binding Cain's gibbet together, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Freylorn wheeled around and saw him. Griswold. A con artist in life, a beastly zombie in un- death. The powers and rage Adrian had withheld until that point all were released. Spears, spirits, teeth all flew in Griswold's direction, corpses around him blew in violent explosions of blood and poisonous gas. Poor Griswold never stood a chance...  
  
"ADRIAN!" "Huh? What" He was shaken awake roughly by his teacher. "Mind telling us what you were dreaming about that was so much better than my lecture on Pythagoras?" Adrian blinked for a moment, bewildered. "Uhm...anything?" That was the wrong answer, apparently, as he soon found himself being sent to the principal's office. This was the third time this week, of course. He let out a sigh of defeat. He would be suspended for sure. And who would come to pick him up? His father.  
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Hope this chapter goes over well! Another one will be on the way semi-soon, R&R and I'll love you forever! 


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